


couldn’t utter my love when it counted

by tfm



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Mutual Pining, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, a little angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21746911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: Yasha Nydoorin has been in love for quite some time. She'd always sort of taken it for granted that the feelings were returned. Now, she's back, and she realizes that the person she loves might just have fallen for someone else.Post Episode 87.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha pre relationship, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett one-sided, past Yasha/Zuala - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 230





	couldn’t utter my love when it counted

couldn’t utter my love when it counted

It’s mid-afternoon as they make their way back through Rexxentrum, and Yasha feels like she’s seeing the city for the first time.

It’s very large.

Much larger than Zadash, which is the biggest city that she’s been in so far, at least that she can remember. Her memories of that first time with Obann are still coming back in drips, haunting both waking and sleeping hours. When her mind had been trapped in there with those memories, it had been horrific. Now, with her mind free, it isn’t any less so.

The streets are near empty after the attack, but those that are out stare at the Mighty Nein as they trudge past, bone weary, and about ready to collapse.

That said, the moment they reach the place where they are to spend the evening (Yasha is sure someone had told her the name, but she is not in any position to recall it), there is an almost unanimous vote to have a long, hot bath.

Caleb, unsurprisingly, is the only one not interested, and as soon as he says so, Nott changes her own position.

‘Nein, Nein,’ Caleb says. ‘You clean up. I will, uh...make sure the rooms are secure,’ he says, but from the look on his face, he seems to want some along time. His voice is distant, as though he’s talking to someone else entirely. Yasha’s surprised he’s even talking at all. She does not know the full story, but even she is observant enough to put two and two together.

She hesitates, not wanting to leave Caleb alone, but also wanting to wash the blood, and dirt, and gore from her body.

It’s been so long since she’s had a bath. It had not, admittedly, been something all that high on Obann’s priorities. Her clothes are filthy, and it has all sort of sunk deep beneath the skin. One bath won’t be enough to have it scrubbed out, but it’s a start.

‘Could you send someone to wash our clothes?’ Beau asks, as she begins shrugging her robes off. They’re new robes, Yasha realizes suddenly. The elf from the Cobalt Soul had called her Expositor, and she had spoken to the King – the _King_ – with such conviction and confidence. Beau examines the robes; there’s a great slash down the side, probably from the _Skingorger_. Yasha feels a bubble of guilt wash over her. ‘Maybe to mend them, too.’

‘Oh, I can do that!’ Jester says, brightly. She takes Beau’s robes in hand, and a flash of green light spreads through them. The slash vanishes. ‘I can’t wash them though.’

They all set their clothes aside to be washed. Yasha thinks hers might take a great deal longer than the rest, given how long its been. In fact, she might be better off getting new clothes while they’re in such a large city. At least then, she can maybe look at a fresh start.

Yasha can’t help but stare at Beau as the monk slides into the water. She had bled so much that it had stained her skin as well as her clothes, and the scars across her abdomen from Yasha’s strikes are still not entirely healed.

Beau seems to catch her looking. ‘You know Yash, if you want me to pose, you only need to ask.’ She’s grinning as she says it, but there’s a tired look in her eyes that suggests her heart isn’t really in it.

They don’t stay in the water long (and Nott doesn’t even get in at all). Long enough to wash off the blood, and have a brief moment of what might be considered relaxation.

Beau stretches and groans as she digs through her bag for clean clothes. ‘I wonder if the staff would say anything if I crawled to my room.’

‘I can carry you if you like,’ Yasha says, and she’s maybe only half joking. She’d watched Beau go down twice in the Chantry, one of which was by her own hand.

‘Nah,’ Beau says, and there’s a little part of Yasha’s heart that breaks a little. Once upon a time, she remembers that Beau had never missed an opportunity to get Yasha to carry her, even when she didn’t need it. Now, bleeding, bruised and broken, she’d rather crawl, would rather ask a polymorphed Caleb to do it than ask Yasha. ‘I’ll make it.’

How things had changed.

The inn is big enough, and nice enough that they are offered rooms to themselves. Yasha hesitates. She doesn’t quite know how to voice what she wants – what she needs. That overwhelming desire to...to not be alone.

Jester, though – sweet, amazing Jester – does not even need words to pick up on it. ‘Do you want to room with me and Beau, Yasha?’ Yasha does want to, desperately, but there’s something in those words that give her pause.

Has something _else_ changed while she’s been gone? Something other than Fjord changing his voice, and whatever’s going on with Caleb, and the tattoos, and…and everything.

‘I would not want to...intrude.’

Jester laughs. ‘Intrude on what, silly? We’re roommates! It’s just a habit thing, now.’ Yasha’s not sure if she’s imagining the slight wince that Beau gives. She doesn’t think she is, and somehow that hurts more than when it had been mere suggestion.

Yasha hesitates. But she really does not want to be alone, so in the end, she relents. There’s only one bed, but it’s large enough for the three of them. Even still, Yasha rolls out her bedroll at the foot of the bed.

‘ _Yasha_ ,’ Jester says, needlingly. ‘How long has it been since you’ve had a good night’s sleep in your own head? We don’t mind!’ Yasha’s sure the look on Beau’s face says otherwise, but Jester is very hard to disagree with.

Jester lies in the middle, which is somehow both the best and the worst possible way for this to go. Worst, because there’s nothing more in the world that Yasha needs to do than to make sure that Beau lives through the night. Not that she’s expecting anything to happen, it’s just...there had been some very close calls today.

To that end, Yasha can’t sleep. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees Obann, sees the Laughing Hand, sees the attack on the Cobalt Soul, or the attack on the strange house in the mountains.

Jester is breathing evenly, her eyes closed, but Yasha can’t hear Beau’s usual snores, which tells her that she’s not the only one lying awake.

After a while Yasha ignores all pretence, and goes to sit on the small balcony, staring out at the sky. There are no clouds; wherever the Stormlord is, he clearly thinks she can handle this on her own. After a few minutes, Beau comes and sits next to her. Yasha doesn’t know if she _can_ handle this.

Before she can even think of what to say, Beau has beaten her to it. ‘Hey Yash. Can we talk?’

‘Of course,’ Yasha says, finally, after a silence that goes on for far too long to be comfortable.

‘I just wanted to say, uh...thanks,’ Beau says. ‘For saving my life today. Jester told me you dragged me outta there, and shielded me from...from Obann. I’m sure without that, I probably wouldn’t be here. So…thanks.’

There’s another awkward beat. Of all the things that Yasha had expected her to say, that had not been one of them. ‘I…’ At a loss for what to say, Yasha – perhaps a little recklessly – decides on the truth. ‘I do not think I would have been able to bear it, if you died.’

‘Probably would have made everything else real awkward,’ Beau says. It takes Yasha a moment to realize what she means; that what had gone down in the throne room would have gone down very differently.

‘Yes,’ she replies. ‘It would have.’ There are other things that need to be said, but now isn’t exactly the time. ‘I have...missed a lot. I would not want to miss you, too.’

Beau is either not picking up on the message that Yasha’s trying to send, or is wilfully ignoring it. The dark part of Yasha’s brain says that it’s the second one, but then, she’s never been particularly good at sending subtle messages to people. They either get missed completely, or hit like a sledgehammer.

‘Yeah, shit,’ Beau says, sounding a little surprised. ‘You _have_ missed a lot. Fjord’s game of chicken with Uk'otoa, we met a literal fucking angel up in Uthodern, me, Nott and Jester got tattoos...Jester...’ There’s an immediate jolt in Yasha’s chest. She has heard that tone of voice before; Nott, talking about her husband Yeza, herself talking about Zuala…

_Had she really been gone so long?_

‘You and Jester have, ah...gotten closer?’

‘It’s funny,’ Beau says, ‘You think I would have learned my lesson about falling for people that are emotionally unavailable, but here we are.’

Yasha doesn’t want to ask what that means. She can’t ask what that means, because she knows that the answer is not one that she will like.

‘What do you mean?’ she asks. Beau turns to look at her, a sad sort of expression on her face.

‘Come on, Yash,’ Beau says, in a pleading sort of voice. ‘It was hard enough to get over you the first time, don’t make me say it now.’

Yasha doesn’t say anything for a long time.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says, finally. ‘If I made it seem like I did not return your feelings.’ The wording is vague enough that it could be interpreted a few different ways, but fortunately – or maybe unfortunately, Yasha’s not quite sure – Beau finally seems to realize what Yasha has been trying to tell her.

‘Are you fucking _kidding_ me?’ Beau says, exactly as exasperated with Yasha as she had right to be. ‘All this time, you reciprocated, and you didn’t think to tell me?’ She puts her head in her hands.

‘And now you’re...in love with Jester?’ Beau shoots her head back to the bed, but Jester is still fast asleep, gentle snores filling the room.

‘It’s not that simple,’ Beau mutters. She doesn’t seem particularly interested in discussing it, so Yasha doesn’t push. The last thing she wants is to ruin this any more than she already has.

‘I...’ Yasha says. ‘I am going to see if I can get some sleep.’ She tries not to look at Beau as she stands and makes her way back into the room.

She doesn’t hear Beau come back to bed.

…

The next morning is about as awkward as Yasha had anticipated; Beau sits down next to Fjord for breakfast, and seems to turn away every time Yasha looks in her direction. Yasha feels a burn in her chest that is half embarrassment, half sorrow. Embarrassment and sorrow at the fact that she had been too cowardly to do anything about her feelings sooner, and now, she has made things that much more...complicated.

She should have just kept her feelings quiet, the same way she had been for all these months. She pushes them down. All they have ever done is cause her pain.

It works, for a time.

They make contact with Shadowhand Essek, and return to Xhorhas to negotiate. There are very long conversations in the Bright Queen’s throne room, during which both Beau and Fjord talk a lot, and the rest of them are uncharacteristically silent.

Yasha is barely even paying attention.

She has just enough awareness to realize that they’re going on a mission for the Bright Queen (or maybe it’s Essek). She’s not sure what this has to do with peace between the nations, or the handing over of the beacons, but apparently it’s something that needs to be done, because none of them argue.

(They’re all too tired to argue, Yasha thinks. She’s starting to get the impression that without her, the group skirted the edge of death more than a couple of times).

She grips the edge of her sword tightly as they head south. A little too close to the Iothia Moorlands for her liking, but after all the things she has been through, what’s one more knife through the heart?

She still has the _Skingorger_ strapped to her back, but has unattuned from it. She doesn’t want that thing anywhere near her mind, her soul.

Even still, the _Magician’s Judge_ feels just as thirsty for violence as the _Skingorger_ ever did. She needs to fight something. Needs to make something bleed. Needs to see the red dripping from her blade. She clenches her fist.

She gets her wish.

An enormous roc swoops down upon them, talons ready to snatch the closest people to it, which happen to be Beau and Fjord.

Yasha rages.

The world focuses to a narrow pinpoint. All she can see is her anger, and her pain, and her sadness. All she can see is the roc on the other end of her blade as she stabs, and slashes, and screams. It’s entirely unlike any rage she’s had before. Not even against Obann had she been so reckless, so...wild.

Then, it all stops.

The roc is lying there, dead (perhaps it’s been dead for some time) and everyone is staring at her. They all look a little scared, and a little confused, except Beau, who somehow looks understanding, even with a trio of bloody talon slashes across her face. She quietly leads Yasha away from the rest of the group, and Yasha, against her better judgement, lets it happen.

‘Is this because of me?’ Beau asks flatly, and for a brief moment, the rage flares up again.

‘Not all of my pain is because of you,’ Yasha answers, her voice cold, before she can even think to stop herself. The change in Beau’s expression is almost immediate. She looks like she’s about to cry. She opens her mouth as if to say something, and then changes her mind, and walks away.

Immediately, Yasha regrets her words. She has hurt so many people in her life, and has hurt her friends more times than she can count. The last thing she wants is to hurt Beau even more.

‘Beau, wait!’ she calls out. There’s a brief moment, and then Beau turns. ‘I’m sorry. That was a very childish thing for me to say.’

‘Hey,’ Beau says, shrugging. She sniffs, and it sounds like she’s trying to hold back a sob. ‘It was honest, I’ll give you that.’

‘It was cruel. You did not deserve that. I...You are under no obligations to reciprocate my feelings.’

Beau gives a sudden snort of laughter. ‘I feel like we were at the exact opposite of this situation not six months ago.’ Yasha grins slightly. She’s not wrong. ‘I mean...I can’t say what’s going to happen. Like...it feels crass for me to say that my other feelings...well, I’m pretty sure they’re not reciprocated, so it’s a moot point, but...I can’t deny that they’re there, you know. I wouldn’t want you to feel like you were a second choice.’

‘It’s...shitty timing,’ Yasha offers, which feels like the understatement of the century. After all, she’s just come back from being under Obann’s mind control, has missed out on so much, and...and now this. ‘I...’ She hesitates. She doesn’t know quite how to put this so as not to sound desperate. ‘For you, Beauregard, I am willing to wait.’

There’s a strange look on Beau’s face. A look of dawning curiosity.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘It’s nothing.’ Beau shakes her head. ‘It’s just...My whole life, I’ve never been anyone’s first choice before. It’s weird.’

Yasha puts a hand on Beau’s cheek, and casts _Healing Hands_. The talon marks close up, leaving behind three parallel stripes of blood. There’s silence between them as Yasha walks over to join the rest of the group.

‘Is everything okay?’ Caduceus asks. He looks a little worried.

Yasha smiles. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘Everything is fine.’

**Author's Note:**

> This is of course, going on the assumption that Beau never lost her lust/feelings for Yasha, but backed off after finding out about Zuala, and is now nursing two simultaneous, impossible crushes.


End file.
